She pads to the window,
Opens it a crack,
And lets the rain in.
Walking softly back to bed,
She curls under the covers,
Head laid gently on the pillow,
And listens to the pit-a-patting.
She knows she’s too old for it,
But she can’t help imagining…
Imagining she’s a mouse,
Curled in a nest of straw,
Safe at home.
Imagining she’s a fairy
In a little acorn house,
Spider-web blanket wrapped around her,
Swaying gently in the wind.

Her comfort from the rain stems back
To when she was a small child
And had nightmares about fire.
Back then, hearing rain as she fell asleep
Meant that she and her family were safe,
Because fires died in the rain,
And robbers were too afraid of falling
On the slippery roof.
In bed years later,
The rain still means she’s safe at home.
Nothing can hurt her.